


The Losers Club

by TomBrownMan



Series: The Losers Club [1]
Category: IT - Stephen King, It: Chapter One (2017), It: Chapter Two (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Horror is fun, It (2017) - Freeform, It just keeps going., M/M, Multi, Pennywise doesn't exist, mysteries could be overrated, or does he?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-10-27 04:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20754176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomBrownMan/pseuds/TomBrownMan
Summary: Bill, Beverly, Ben, Richie, Eddie, Mike, and Stan are put to the test when murders begin happening in their small town. Strange messages and clues keep being left behind by the killer and a tragic incident in Bill’s past comes to the center of this mystery.





	1. Writer’s Block

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [a (number) neighborhood of seven](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20185441) by [BookRockShooter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookRockShooter/pseuds/BookRockShooter). 

> Hi so this is my first series and I just wanna shoutout BookRockShooter for inspiring me to write again after a pretty long time. Hope you guys enjoy Chapter One! This chapter is a little short but I promise Chapter Two and Three will be slightly longer. If you guys have any comments or suggests or feedback of any kind feel free to DM on Twitter @tombrownman! Thanks so much for reading!!!! More chapters coming this week!

_And he dreamed. A dark and depressing nightmare. Full of gory, fleshy, mummified...._

“F-f-f-fuck,” Bill shook his head and slammed his laptop shut. “Writer’s block.” He muttered to himself. It was the third time today he tried to write more in his story. Every single time he got stuck right at this part.

Bill often found himself backed into this corner. Unable to get the ideas out of his head, frustrated and annoyed with his own mind. DING! DING!

Bill sighs as he pats his pants pockets searching for his phone. “W-What is it n-now?!” He complains, although, with his concentration already ruined by his writer’s block, he smiles as he pulls out his phone.

_New iMessage from: Beverly Marsh. _

**Bev**: _hey bill. The boys and I were wondering if you’d be able to make it to the movies tonight. It’s the new marvel movie with Angelina Jolie. Just let me know if you’re coming and I’ll get you a ticket. Hope to see you, Bev. _

Bill’s smile fades as he sets his phone down on his desk. He should go. He knew he should. He’d been isolating himself for the last three weeks and for what? A stupid story. One which he constantly became stuck and angry with himself for writing.

If only he could just deal with the elephant in the room. It was more like a giant, evil, shadowy spider than an elephant, he told himself. An image flashes in his mind:

A yellow rain jacket, black rain boots, the sound of a speeding Dodge Challenger...

No. He wouldn’t deal with it now.

He glances down at his phone and contemplates for a moment and then grabs and unlocks it. He clicks on Bev’s message and sends one back.

**Bill**: _hey. I’m coming. And I can pay you back for a ticket.... _

Bill hesitates before typing another message.

**Bill**: _sorry I’ve been so distant for a while. I guess I just wanted to- _

He groans and immediately deletes his message. “S-Stupid. You sound st-st-stupid.” He’s about to stand up when his phone DING’s again. It’s Bev.

**Bev**: _yaaaay!!! Glad you decided to come! Meet us there at 6:30 on the dot. Don’t be late or Stanley will have your head! _

“Heads?” Bill asks himself quietly. An idea pops into his mind and he grins. He opens back up his laptop and begins writing again.


	2. Heads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beverly, Ben, Mike, Richie, Eddie, and Stanley are waiting for Bill to show up at the movies. Things don't go to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I actually already had this chapter written but I have been rereading everything and revising to make it all flow properly. This one is slightly longer than Chapter One, so hopefully you'll enjoy that. I'll talk a little more about where I plan to take this series in the future in the end notes.

"He's now exactly..." Stanley Uris looks down at his Apple Watch, to check the time. _6:33 pm_. "Three minutes late!" He proclaims with annoyed certainty.

There they stood right outside the movie theater, the six of them, looking around at the various cars pulling into the parking lot. Searching for Bill Denbrough.

"We probably look like idiots," Eddie Kaspbrak adds. He glances frantically back and forth, scanning for Bill's father's Subaru. "Standing here, just looking around at all these cars..."

"We could be less suspicious looking." Ben Hanscom comments. He shrugs. A Subaru drives right past them over to the right side of the parking lot. All six of them turn to stare at it's passengers. A father taking his daughter to the movies. Not Bill.

"Nice! A little Daddy-Daughter play date, if you catch my drift?!" Richie Tozier, boyishly, and rather disgustingly winks and suggests aloud. Stan gives him a stern look and Richie immediately clears his throat and adds, "Well, you know to see the Lego Barbie and the Princesses Tower movie, or something."

Ignoring Richie's crude comments, as usual, Mike speaks up, "You sure he said he was coming, Bev?" He glances to her, and suddenly Beverly Marsh snaps out of her daze.

She had been daydreaming again. The thought of seeing Bill Denbrough was so overwhelming exciting that she felt like she might explode. Realizing Mike has asked her a question, she turns to face him, her eyes still adjusting to focusing on something other than passing cars.

"He'll be here this time." She declares, trying to sound confident. They'd been through this countless times in the past three weeks. Bill would say he'd come to something, they'd show up early and wait for him, and he'd never show.

"You know, we sure do end up doing a lot of waiting around when we invite Big Bill to stuff. You guys think he's starting to get tired of us?" Richie asks. His voice shakes a little in what seems to Beverly, like sadness and fear rolled into a burrito.

"He's not tired of us, Richie. He's just been through a lot. I mean going through what he's going through... losing what he lost," Beverly finds herself saying before realizing her mouth is moving. "That isn't easy." Even unaware she is defending him.

They all fall silent for a few seconds. Eddie reaches into his shirt pocket and retrieves his inhaler. He sticks it into his mouth and pumps. TFFT! He breathes in very shakily afterwards. 

Beverly watches him, thinking to herself that Eddie must be anxious, or feeling awkward, or scared. He never uses his inhaler unless he is experiencing one of those three feelings. She reaches up and runs her fingers through her red hair, scanning the parking lot again. So many cars, but none of them are the right one. 

"No one said it was easy," Stan finally speaks, breaking the silence. "That still doesn't make it okay to constantly tell us he's coming and then back out without giving us a heads up." 

He did have a point. They had been running this race of "Is Bill Coming?" for almost a month now and Beverly knew it was getting tiresome for everyone. Well, everyone except her. The race never seemed to tire her, just the let down of never completing it. She starts to open her mouth to speak when something catches her attention our of the corner of her eye. She instinctively turns towards it, stepping forward. She squints, trying to get a clearer look at it.

"Uh, guys..." Beverly raises her arm and points in the direction of her attention. They all turn to face that direction, looking into the far back section of the theaters parking lot. Supposedly, that is where guys take girls to make out and have sex. However, now there was only a single vehicle sitting in that section. A blue Dodge Challenger. 

Beverly steps off the sidewalk and into the parking lot, beginning to walk towards this vehicle. Ben, Mike, and Richie follow her. Stan and Eddie stay back, reluctant. To Beverly's right, Richie readjusts his glasses as he squints to try to see.

"What the fuck is that?" He asks aloud. Beverly sees what he's talking about. A row of basketball-sized objects lays sprawled across the hood of the car. They look like they are wrapped in something. "A bunch of wrapped up soccer balls?"

"Those don't look like soccer balls..." Mike says, as they continue to walk closer to the Dodge Challenger. The objects start to become more clear, as does the weird wet substance leaking out of them. Beverly begins to pace a little ahead of the group with Ben trying to keep up.

"Wait, Bev. Maybe we shouldn't go over there..." Ben tries to argue, but Beverly ignores him. By this point, Stanley and Eddie have joined them in approaching the blue Dodge Challenger. 

"Beverly, I think Ben's right..." Eddie's voice calls from behind her, but Beverly continues moving forward. Now only a few yards away, two things become very apparent:

**One**: the weird round objects were definitely not basketballs or soccer balls or any kind of sports ball.

**Two: **the wet substance leaking out of them, was red. Dark red.

As the others catch up, Eddie gasps from behind Beverly, so violently she can almost feel him faint. Before she has time to process the situation, Mike and Ben grab her shoulders and quickly pull her back. Richie takes a long glance and then turns, heels over, and vomits. Beverly hears Stan talking to someone on his phone, the urgency in his voice frightening. Without a struggle, Beverly shrugs off Ben and Mike and steps right up to the front of blue Dodge Challenger. Red liquid seeps and drips from it, running down the sides, pooling up underneath the car itself, as if it has soaked through the floorboards. 

There were six mummified heads sitting directly in front of her. Blood was pooling and pooling out of poorly wrapped bandages, and as she followed it's trail, she sees three words written in the blood. 

** _DON'T BE LATE._ **

In matter of seconds, the horrifying picture sets in and Beverly feels herself become nauseous. She turns so fast, trying to look away from the bloody mess, that she nearly falls over. A pair of soft, firm hands catches her by the shoulders and she looks up to see him. None other than Bill Denbrough himself. And he was ten minutes late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK! So that is just a tiny little taste of what I've got planned moving forward. I don't know specifically how long this will go on, but I do not plan for it be a long-running series. Thank you so much for reading, and if you have any questions, comments, or even ideas on where you think I could take this, feel free to DM me on twitter @tombrownman!!!!


	3. DON'T BE LATE.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the shocking event from the end of the last chapter, the Loser's must put their heads together to figure out just what the hell is going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI!!! 11 kudos is amazing. Thank you guys sooooo much! So I've been revising this chapter for a couple of days just to make sure it makes sense, and I am now ready to share with the world. FYI - Chapter 4 will probably be released in the next three days, so there's also that to maybe look forward too!

There were cops everywhere. Flashing blue and red lights, radio chatter emitting from cruisers, officers seemingly prancing every which way. They were crawling all over the scene like ants at a picnic. 

Richie had never been apart of a crime scene before. It was ... not as cool or exciting as shows like _The Wire _or _Law and Order_ had, somehow, gotten him to believe it would be. In fact, Richie felt like he might throw up again. Luckily, Eddie ALWAYS kept anti-nausea medicine in his fanny pack. It was a somewhat random (and most of the time completely useless) bit of information that Richie knew. Eddie was THE guy to go to when you needed medicine.

Have a killer migraine? Eddie's got Advil, Tylenol, Ibuprofen, and Excedrin. Feeling an allergy attack coming on? Eddie's got Claritin, Allegra, Benadryl... basically Eddie is a walking pharmacy.

"Hey Eds..." Richie begins to say, when his stomach groans loudly. He clutches it and feels the burning sensation of vomit rising up. Despite this tension, Richie is able to continue. "You carry anti-nausea meds on you, right?"

"Don't call me Eds." Eddie replies with sass. He takes one look at Richie and immediately reaches into his fanny pack and grabs a packet of Nauzene. He tosses it to him, granny style. BONK! It hits Richie on the side of his head and falls to the ground. The packet rips open on impact, sending Nauzene tablets sprawling out everywhere onto the sidewalk.

"OUCH!" Richie says, fighting through the rising vomit.

"Dammit, Richie! Those cost nine dollars and eighty-three cents!" Eddie yells at him infuriated, as he gets onto his hands and knees and begins scooping up tablets.

Richie starts to bend down to help him when his stomach turns violently, the vomit rising up all the way through his esophagus, he gags and...

Eddie screams.

Standing next to one of the many police cars, Ben, Stan, and Mike immediately jump and turn in Richie and Eddie's direction. Before anyone is able to blink, eight officers surround Richie with guns drawn. Richie wipes off his mouth with his shirt sleeve, stands up, and raises his arms, beginning to chuckle in his throat. Eddie looks up at the officers, then back down at his clothes which are now covered in Richie's vomit.

"Sorry officers, no murders here, we just need some cleanup on aisle six." Richie says, he begins snickering and finally bursts out laughing, unable to contain his amusement of the situation. 

And as Richie expected, after staring at his vomit soaked clothes, Eddie vomits himself. The officers look from the maniacally laughing Richie to the sickly Eddie and back to Richie again. They holster their weapons and walk off in different directions. 

"And somehow, even after vomiting out your guts, you're still able to say something completely stupid, laugh maniacally in front of a bunch of armed cops, and NOT get shot." Stan says with disgust and a hint of disappointment as he, Ben, and Mike walk over to join them. He pinches his nostrils closed to avoid the puke smell.

Richie turns and smiles, then points finger guns at Stan, who just rolls his eyes. 

"Hey guys!" Ben says loudly enough so that they can all hear him. He points and all of them turn to see two figures walking towards them in the dark.

"Bill and Bev are coming back," Mike breathes, a faint relieved smile forming on his lips as he begins stepping forward. Richie, Stan, and Ben step up beside him meeting with Bill and Beverly. "So?"

"Well they are, uh, human heads..." Beverly says pausing and closing her eyes, as if she is trying to forget those mummified craniums. After a few seconds, she opens them again and glances at Bill, who's eyes are looking off into the distance wishing that he could unsee the horror.

"You okay, Big Bill?" Mike asks. He looks at Bill with worry. Richie takes a look at Bill too. Something was definitely off.

Seeing Bill for the first in three weeks should have been an exciting occasion, but this was terrifying. It almost feels, to Richie, like Bill coming back to them was somehow the catalyst for whatever they had seen tonight. The group stands in silence as police officers and EMTs move around them, barely even noticing they're there.

"I-I-It's the same car." Bill manages to say while his voice shakes unsteadily. A single tear falls from his face and he realizes he's starting to cry. He quickly wipes his face with his sleeve, hoping the others didn't see the tears that were forming there.

"Bill, you don't mean..." Ben starts to ask but before he can finish, Bill interrupts with a nod. Somehow they all understand what that means.

"How? It can't be the SAME car, they have that locked up in an evidence garage somewhere," Stan asserts, very unconvincingly. He looks at Bill and gives a sheepish smile, trying to comfort him.

"I-It's the s-s-same car. I kn-kn-know it is." Bill insists. In his heart, he knew it was true. Somehow this car, the blue Dodge Challenger, had to be the same one that... He closes his eyes and visibly turns his head, like he's trying not to look at something. They all fall silent for a few minutes.

"So then who drove it here?" Richie asks, he pushes his glasses back up onto his nose.

Loudly from behind them, Eddie stumbles his way off of the ground. They all turn to see him attempting to wipe off some of the vomit that has soaked his outfit. Bill simply shrugs. No one can think of a likely suspect.

"Don't be late," Beverly half-whispers, half-speaks aloud. The others look to her, while she looks directly into Bill's eyes. "I texted you that, Bill. I said, _Don't be late or Stanley will have yo_-"

Her eyes grow big as she looks at Bill with a horrifying realization. He takes a sharp breath.

"Your head." Bill says perfectly, not stuttering and finishing Bev's sentence. The others look on, bewildered. 

"Wait what?" Eddie asks, confusion sounding in his voice. Vile was still piling up in his throat. Beverly turns to him. 

"That's what I texted Bill after he said that he was coming, _Don't be late or Stanley will have your head! _" She explains. Eddie stares back at her, slowly comprehending.

"But... but people say stuff like that all the time," Stan interjects, already having comprehended and not enjoying the thought of the conclusion. Mike nods in agreement.

"Beverly, did you specifically say: _Stanley will have your head_ ?" Ben asks. They look at him. Ben is a very smart individual, and if you had a problem, he could help you figure out the best solution in a matter of minutes. With Richie it was math problems. With Beverly it was figuring out what to wear to school. 

"Yes." Beverly replies, nodding.

"Hmm." Ben rubs his chin with his fingers. Richie sees this as his opportunity.

"Dude, you look like you're stroking an invisible beard. What are you a fucking wizard?" He asks, poking fun at Ben, desperately attempting to lighten the mood of this conversation. It doesn't work.

"I think the term you were looking for is non-existent beard, Richie. And I'm just thinking," Ben says, still stroking his chin. Richie opens his mouth but Ben cuts him off, "I'm trying to think of a reason how the same blue Challenger that Bill ... saw before, could've ended up here at the movies tonight."

"Coincidence?" Eddie asks, sheepishly, not wanting the opposite to be true. Ben shakes his head.

"I-It's not a c-c-co-inc..." Bill is unable to get the word. Frustrated he shouts, "It's the s-same f-f-fucking c-c-car!"

"How do we know for sure that it's the same one, Bill?" Stan asks, he bows his head to avoid Bill's gaze. Bill swallows hard.

"The l-l-lice-license p-p-plate is the s-same." Bill says quietly and they all turn to look at him, a little confused.

"How could you possibly know that?" Beverly asks, starting to sound as skeptical as Stan.

Bill pulls out his phone and pulls up a blurry picture. He hands it Mike, who studies it and then passes it to Ben.

"B-0-W-W-0-W," Ben reads aloud. He hands the phone to Beverly.

"Bow wow?" Mike asks putting the letters and the words together. Richie is instantly aware of what that license plate stands for.

"Oh fuck me," Richie says almost whispering. They all turn to look at him.

"W-w-what R-Richie?" Bill asks, looking directly into Richie's eyes. What he sees staring back at him is complete fear.

"Do you know what bow wow means?" Beverly asks, seeing the same horror reflected to her from Richie's eyes.

"Or who that is referencing?" Ben adds. He stops stroking his chin. Richie nods very slowly, looking as if he could vomit again.

"Bowers." Richie whispers, his voice sounding small and afraid. "It's Henry Bowers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOOOOOOO yeah. Secrets out. Henry Bowers is definitely going to be in this fic. And he's gonna be pretty fucked up, if I do say so myself. You can find me on twitter @tombrownman if you wanna rant at me or if you have any ideas or suggests for this series going forward. And thanks to BookRockShooter for helping me out on some of the future little elements to this story. You're amazing and your support is equally amazing!!! Also shoutout to the best fan and supporter, Abby. You know who you are ;) That's it for now, but Chapter 4 will be out pretty soon after this one.


	4. B0W W0W

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A piece of Bill's past becomes clearer and now he seeks to talk to the one person who he has hated without truly knowing for three weeks, Henry Bowers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Chapter 4 is super fun and I'm so excited for you guys to read this! I spent a good bit of time working on this one, and I hope you'll enjoy some of the elements that are being introduced as we move forward! Also shoutout to all 13 of you who left kudos!!! Thank you guys!

_Henry Bowers._

Bill felt everything stop around him. The others continued to speculate what that revelation could possibly mean, but Bill heard none of it. For three weeks, he had known that _someone _had driven that blue Dodge Challenger with the strange license plate: _B0W-W0W_ , but what he didn't know was who that someone had been. 

_Henry Bowers. He drove that car. He... he killed Georgie._

"Bill?" Beverly asks as if she could be stepping on eggshells, seeing his zoned out expression, and cutting off everyone else's speculation. They all turn to face him. 

"R-r-r-Richie, ar-ar-are y-y-you sh-sh-sure?" Bill finally asks, stuttering through every word he speaks. His voice cracks like he is going through puberty again. In his eyes they can see rage and grief bubbling up. 

"Yeah. He calls himself and his friends _The Bow Wow Gang_." Richie confirms, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. Bill closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

"How do you know that, Richie?" Ben asks, his hand neatly resuming its place onto his chin. Ben had only moved here about six months ago, and though he was not really the new kid on the block anymore, he hadn't been so unfortunate as to encounter Henry Bowers yet. Bill starts to clench his fists a little. Balling them up, then letting them loosen out.

"In ninth grade, he and his gang tormented me. They hung me from the flagpole with my underwear, stuffed me into a locker in the boys locker room during gym class, broke three pairs of glasses..." Richie shivers as he recounts these terrifying experiences. Eddie gulps and uses his inhaler again. TFFT!

"Whoa. Bowers did all that to you?" Mike asks, he and Richie make eye contact and for a moment both of them seem to see the same thing, another survivor of Bowers' torture. "We've lived next to each other since we were kids, and he's always had it out for me. I mean, I don't know for sure, but when I was eleven, I'm ninety percent positive that Henry poisoned my dog."

"What?" Beverly asks, her hands immediately go to cover her mouth with shock and horror. Mike just nods, and looks down. Stan and Eddie both look to each other. After a moment of reluctance, Eddie nods to Stan.

"Okay... Bowers did something to me too," Stan finally says, his pitch elevating a few hertz. "This was a few years ago, when I was practicing for my upcoming bar mitzvah while walking to school. Henry and his gang surrounded me and made terrible jokes and rude comments about me being Jewish and then he took my kippah and threw it into passing car with its window rolled down. My dad was so angry after that..."

Sometimes when Stanley was upset or frightened his voice would go up a few pitches. Richie called it Stan's "Frihightened" voice. Eddie cleared his throat and spoke up next,

"Bowers popped my arm from its socket once. He held me down on the ground with my arm pinned behind my back, while he and his friends spit on me, all because I asked them if I could play kickball with them," Eddie says, his voice shaking with sadness and fear. "I was nine."

"Henry started rumors that I'd slept with the entire twelfth grade class at Derry high..." Beverly whispers, secretly hoping that none of the others would hear her. Ben gently rubs her back. "He followed me into the bathroom, shoved me against a wall and threatened me at knife point once to give him blowjob, but a teacher walked in and caught him before anything happened." 

Bill continues clenching and unclenching his fists, over and over again. With each new story being told by one of his friends, he feels his anger reach new heights. Henry Bowers was more than a bully, he was a psychopath. 

"H-Henry B-b-Bowers drove the ch-ch-Challenger and h-h-hit G-g-Georgie wh-wh-while he w-was p-p-playing in the fr-fr-front yard," Bill mutters, more to himself than to anyone else. "Al-all I c-could d-do w-w-was wa-watch." 

Everyone turns to him. Beverly steps forward, reaching out to try and take ahold of Bill's hands. Almost animalistic, Bill immediately slaps them away. Beverly jumps back frightened. 

"D-don't t-t-touch m-me!" Bill screams angrily, tears beginning to stream down his face. He had broke. As he steps away from them, a pair of hands grabs him by the shoulders. He turns and sees a police officer.

"You okay son?" The officer asks, looking at Bill with some concern. Bill shakes his head and looks down at the asphalt, not wanting to talk anymore, not tonight. "Alright, well I'm here to escort you all back home safely, if you'll just follow me." 

They follow the officer, with Bill trailing behind. Images of Georgie, of his yellow rain coat, his black rain boots, and... Henry Bowers driving in his Dodge Challenger, seeing Bill's little brother playing and splashing in puddles on their driveway, Georgie splashing his way right up to the edge of the driveway, Henry swerving his car, Georgie seeing the headlights through the rain... all of these images were playing over and over in Bill's head. As he stares out the window of a police cruiser on his way home, he whispers to himself.

"H-He thru-thrusts h-his f-f-fists a-against th-the p-p-po-posts. An-and st-st-still i-i-ins-sists he s-s-s-s-sees the g-g-g-ghosts"

...

Bill wasn't ready for what he knew they had to do next. He turns over in his bed to look at his alarm clock. _7 a.m. _He hadn't slept all night, coming up with a plan in his head. He'd text all of them in a minute, explain everything, but first he sits up and opens his laptop. He begins typing:

_He was alone now. Lost, cold, frightened. And there he stood at the periphery of destiny. No mummified heads, no gory tricks, it was only him and the thing he feared the most. Or rather the thing he hated the most._

Bill pauses reading over the sentences multiple times. He had no idea what he just wrote. He sighs and picks up his phone.

...

"Come on! Where are they?!" Stan groans as he glances at his Apple Watch. They were standing outside of Eddie's house, waiting for he and Richie to come out and meet them. Stan taps his foot impatiently.

"M-m-maybe they got c-ca-caught uh-up?" Bill asks, trying to offer a solution that appeases Stan. Mike snickers.

"Maybe they just know how Stan HATES when they're late," He says, grinning a little too much. He and Bill exchange smiles. Mike always knew how to make Bill feel a bit better. Stan glares at them both.

"Should we send someone in to get them to hurry up?" Beverly asks, starting to sound a little impatient herself. "They've known that we're outside for almost an hour now..."

"If we send someone in, I nominate Ben," Mike says, pointing back to Ben with his thumb. "He hasn't had to deal with Bowers before, and I honestly think he might be the only one who could get those two love birds to hurry the heck up in there." 

"Wait, love birds?" Ben asks, completely caught off guard with being nominated without his consent. "Richie and Eddie?" He sounds too surprised.

"Ben, I love you to death but how oblivious do you have to be?" Beverly chuckles, running her hand through Ben's hair. He looks at all of them and it clicks.

"Oh shit." Ben exclaims, his face red with a little embarrassment. Beverly and Mike laugh. 

"I'll nominate Ben too, if he can get those two Agapornis' out of that house quickly," Stan complains. Everyone turns to him. He looks at each of their confused faces. "Agapornis is the genus of lovebird." He explains. Beverly, Ben, and Mike just blink confusedly.

"F-f-fine, I'm g-going!" Bill remarks as he steps up onto the front porch. He raises his arm and prepares to knock on the door when, BAM! The door comes swinging open, nearly nearly causing Bill to topple backwards onto the sidewalk.

"Big Bill! Haha, didn't see you there buddy! We were just on our way to meet you guys!" Richie says, although Bill and the others can hardly hear him. Richie was talking eighty miles a minute. He steps over Bill and quickly stands back from the door as Eddie comes out next. Eddie's cheeks are rosy red. He looks a little flabbergasted.

"You okay, Bill?" Eddie asks, also talking kinda fast and breathing a little heavily, he offers Bill a hand which he accepts. Eddie pulls him back to his feet. 

"You guys took forever! What were you doing in there?" Stan asks loudly, and rather annoyed. Mike, Ben, and Bev all snicker to themselves. 

"They were probably just confessing their undying love for each other... AGAIN." Mike teases. Eddie flips him the bird.

"We were not! I'm just a little out breath from having to climb down a flight of stairs," Eddie tries to explain. He quickly flips up his collar, but Bill makes a note of a dark purple spot on his neck. A hickey.

"I'm sure that wasn't ALL you were doing, Eddie." Beverly giggles teasingly. She nudges Ben and he laughs. Bill sighs with a smile and shakes his head.

"Guys, can we hurry this up please?! The prison doesn't accept visitors all damn day!" Stan groans, speaking to them like they're a group of children in Sunday school. With Stan's reminder, Bill clears his throat.

"St-st-Stan's r-right, ih-if we're g-g-going to s-s-see..." Bill pauses briefly, his mind goes to the image of Henry Bowers plowing his Dodge Challenger into Georgie's body. "B-b-b-Bowers, then we n-need to hurry." He finishes, almost sounding as parental-like as Stan, who nods with approval.

"Well then. What are we waiting for?! Christmas?!" Richie aks, clearly trying to speed this along so the others won't continue to pester him about Eddie. 

"We were waiting on you..." Ben states, instantly causing all the others to laugh. Richie sticks out his tongue and gives Ben the middle finger.

"Well you're not anymore, so let's go!" Eddie says, grabbing Richie's hand and pulling Richie down the street with him. The others follow, although they exchange little grins, behind their backs, at Eddie and Richie for trying their best not to address the elephant in the room. 

...

As they walk to the Derry County Correctional Facility, Bill stares at the sidewalk beneath his feet. His head seemed to be playing his final moments of seeing Georgie, alive and well, over and over and over and over again. They continue steadily approaching the concrete silhouette standing on the top of the hill. As they inch closer, Bill's mind starts swelling again. He realizes that he doesn't know what he will do if he sees Henry, face to face. A big part of him wanted to wrap his fingers around Henry's throat and choke the life out of him. Another part wanted to drive his ugly blue Dodge Challenger right over Henry's body at 120 miles per hour. But something was bothering him more than his thoughts of revenge... It was those mummified heads.

The police forensics hadn't been able to identify them on the scene. Any part of those heads that could have matched them to their bodies had been removed, forcefully. They were disfigured and then wrapped in bandages. The only thing the police could determine was that they were human heads and they had to have been killed recently. Bill chose not to inform the others of this, in a weird way trying to protect their humanity. Somehow he knew that his attempt at saving them would end up being for naught.

"We're here." Ben says, causing Bill to break out of his thoughts. He sees Ben pointing to a massive slab of rock and concrete sitting in the grass outside of the large building before them. Bill freezes in his place, holding his breath.

_ **DERRY COUNTY CORRECTIONAL FACILITY** _

Bill falls so suddenly, that Richie and Beverly run forward to try and catch him, but instead he lands hard on his knees in front of this sign. 

"Dude, you good?!" Richie asks as he and Beverly reach Bill. He shakes his head.

"N-n-n-no," Bill sputters, feeling all his anger and grief swelling up. He feels as if an emotional bomb has gone off inside his body. 

"Bill, we don't have to do this if you're not ready," Beverly says, her voice calming Bill's mind. He stands up and breaks free of her and Richie's grasp. Bill takes several deep breaths.

"I-I'm ready. I ha-have to b-be." Bill says, glancing at the others, who blink with uncertainty. "C-c-come on. L-let's g-g-go inside."

They follow him into the building, going through metal detectors and being searched and patted down by police officers. Finally, they step into the main lobby. A tiny desk sits in the center of it reminding them of a hotel, like something out of _The Shining_. A woman sits behind the desk, typing away on a computer. Bill approaches her.

"Hello, how may I help you today?" She asks, looking up from her computer and at each one of them, mildly intrigued. "Is there someone you're here to see?"

"W-w-w-w-we-we-we-we-we-we're h-h-h-h-here t-t-t-t-t-to s-s-s-see..." Bill struggles to get out before he turns to look at the others, asking for their help. Stan steps up to the desk.

"We're here to see Henry Bowers. He was put in here a few weeks ago." Stan says calmly and clearly, making Bill slightly angry that everyone else can speak without stuttering.

The woman behind the desk immediately drops her polite expression. She looks at all of them suspiciously. She asks with unease showing her in face, "I'm sorry, but who are all of you?" 

Stan turns to Bill, Bill turns to the others and for a moment all of them look as if they have no idea what to say. Richie steps up to the desk and gives the woman a nice big smile.

"Who we are, sweetheart, doesn't really matter. Personally, I think we're just a bunch of losers. Uh, but we really need to see Mr. Bowers... he's a... he's an old..." Richie trails off, fighting his urge to rant about how horrible Henry Bowers is. He glances to Ben, who nods and licks his lips.

"Friend," Ben says, forming a smile. Richie breathes a sigh of relief. "He's an old friend, and we very much need to see him."

The woman stares at all of them suspiciously, taking a mental picture of each of their faces. Nervously, Eddie takes a hit off his inhaler. TFFT!

"Please?" Ben begs, he curls his bottom lip and gives this woman his puppy-dog eyes. The woman sighs, and her expression changes to something none of them had prepared for, anxiousness.

"Even if..." She pauses thinking about how she wants to phrase her words. "You just can't see him." She settles on that.

"Why not?" Mike asks, carefully watching her expression.

"Okay look, I'm not supposed to be talking about this..." She gives them a final look over. The confusion, the nervousness, and worry in their eyes gets to her. And Ben's puppy-dog pouting face. She takes sharp breath before saying,

"Henry Bowers escaped three days ago."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOOOOO.... Henry Bowers is in play ladies and gentlemen!!!!! Thanks sooo much for reading, and leaving kudos!!! If you have any questions or ideas that you wanna suggest or thoughts on this chapter or the series as a whole, please feel free to DM me, @tombrownman on Twitter! Chapter 5 will hopefully be out sometime this weekend!!


	5. Escapee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the news of Henry's breakout from prison, The Losers discover a message Henry left for them, and it is not an inspiring one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone! First off before I get started, THANK YOU ALL for the 17 Kudos! You're all crazy kind and I love you guys! Now to business, this chapter took about all week to write and I'm super excited for it to finally be available to read. Hope you enjoy!!!!!!!!!!

Bill’s heart sinks into his stomach. He feels his bubbling anger and grief completely subside. In their place is fear.

“Escaped?” Beverly asks, her voice shaking with worry. She tries not to look at Bill. The woman behind the desk simply nods.

“How?” Ben asks, shocked. He had never met Henry Bowers but the way Bill, Beverly, and the others had described him made him feel wary. And the idea of an escaped inmate running around in Derry, was not exactly appealing.

"He tricked a guard into opening his cell door, and he...” The woman takes a sharp breath. “He killed him. Cut him open and wrote something on the wall with his blood. And stole his weapon, and his keys.”

Eddie nearly faints, but Richie quickly grabs his hand and squeezes it. Eddie turns to him and smiles sheepishly. Beverly instinctively reaches for Bill’s hand, but he doesn’t take hers. Instead he clenches his fists again, a lump beginning to build in his throat.

“That guard had keys to the whole prison. Henry used them to get out in the middle of the night without even being seen,” The woman finishes her story, watching their expressions change to some of paranoia. “I’m sorry, that’s probably not something you wanted to hear.”

“W-w-why ha-has n-n-no w-w-one t-talked about th-this on th-the n-news?” Bill asks, his voice cracking with emotion.

“The warden and the Derry County and City police haven’t wanted this to be public yet. They’re confident they can catch him without an-“ The woman tries reassuring but Bill has heard enough. He turns and runs straight out of the prison.

He collapses beside the big sign sitting out front and pounds his fists into the grass, angrily with tears steaming out of his eyes. It was too much. Henry killed Georgie, he tortured and threatened Bill’s friends, and he had beheaded six people. Bill would probably never find out who they were. But what was truly nagging him about all of this was Henry’s message:

_ **DON’T BE LATE.** _

What did Henry mean? Obviously it was taken from a text Bev sent to Bill, but why that specific part? What did Henry not want Bill to be late to? Another thing crosses Bill’s mind, a fleeting thought.

_The heads! The mummified heads! Beverly texted you about heads! You wrote about mummified heads in your story!_

Bill shudders at the thought. He closes his eyes, trying to cast it away, but instead he sees them. Bloody, bandaged, disfigured... How could Henry have known about that? His texts between he and Beverly... his story hadn’t even been shared to his friends, let alone to- Something touches Bill’s back and he jumps instinctively.

Beverly was standing beside him, her hand frozen in the space where Bill’s back was formerly occupying. Bill looks up to her. Seeing the fear and wariness in her face causes him to break again. He looks at the grass and sobs.

“He k-k-killed G-Georgie. And n-now he’s fr-fr-free,” Bill cries softly, looking into Bev’s eyes. Beverly extends her hand and pulls Bill up off the ground, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I-I c-can’t h-help but f-f-f-eel like Ih-Ih-It’s all m-my f-f-fault.”

She shakes her head and pulls him into an embracing hug. He cries into her neck and shoulder, smelling her freshly shampooed hair. It smells like cinnamon and strawberries.

“No. Bill, it’s not your fault,” Beverly whispers into his ear. He opens his mouth to argue that it is, but she gently takes his face in her hands and turns it downward to look at her. They stare into each other’s eyes. “What Henry did is on Henry, that’s not on you, Bill.”

“Guys!” Mike shouts. Beverly and Bill turn and look to see Mike, Stan, Ben, Richie, and Eddie running over to them. Ben is carrying a file folder in his hand. Bill and Bev back away from each other.

“W-What is th-that?” Bill asks pointing to Ben’s hand. He hands it to Bill, who wipes some tears off of his face with his sleeve as he reaches out and takes the folder.

“After Big Bill ran out, we asked the lady if there were any photos of what Henry wrote on his cell wall, she let us have that.” Mike says pointing to the folder in Bill’s hand.

Bill opens it and immediately sees several photographs paper-clipped to the inside. He looks down and studies them. All of the images were of Henry’s prison cell. It looked exactly like you’d expect a prison cell to look, other than the body of the murdered guard lying on the cot where the prisoner would normally sleep. The guard’s abdomen looked like an unzipped gym bag. It was gutted open. Blood pooling from the body, covered the entire cell floor. There were footprints in the blood and some sections of the floor looked as if they had been wiped clean by hand. Bill’s eyes looked to the wall of the cell. There he read the words that Henry had written in that guards blood:

_ **You couldn’t save Georgie. You won’t save them either. - H.** _

“What does it say?” Beverly asks, placing her hand gently on Bill’s shoulder. He closes his eyes briefly, trying force himself not to let tears fall onto the pictures. Henry wanted him to break, but he had to try to stay unbroken.

“H-He s-said I c-c-couldn’t sa-save you,” Bill replies, looking at Bev. His voice is wavering. “A-any of you.”

They all let these words sink in. The fear and worry on their faces was almost enough to make Bill burst back into tears. But he held it together.

“Save us from what, Bill?” Ben asks, watching Bill scan over the photographs again.

“I... d-don’t kn-kn-know.” He responds. Bill turns and hands the folder to Beverly.

She opens it up and immediately shoves it into Ben’s hands, not wanting to take even a second glance at the horrific things displayed in the photos. Ben takes it, and Beverly reaches up to cover her mouth with her hands. Ben spends a few seconds looking it over before passing it to Mike, then from Mike it goes to Stan, then to Eddie, and lastly to Richie. When all of them have studied the folder and it’s contents, for as long as they physically and mentally feel able to, a silence takes over.

“I think Henry has a disturbing infatuation with you, Big Bill.” Richie speaks finally, he gives Bill a faint smile, but it doesn’t help Bill’s newly growing guilt.

“But why? What about Bill is driving Henry to be this crazy?” Stan asks, he looks to the others searching for an answer. No one has one.

“I don’t know but we need to careful,” Mike says seriously, he looks each of them in the eyes, “His message, the one on Henry’s cell wall, that’s referring to us.”

“Mike’s right,” Ben adds, nodding in agreement with Mike. He rubs his chin again. “But what I don’t understand is how or even if this is all connected to the...” Ben pauses, Bill’s eyes meet his. “To the heads and the message on the car.”

“They’ve gotta be connected, right?” Eddie asks, his fingers still wrapped tightly around his inhaler. “I mean the license plate connects Henry to the car, which connects both messages...”

“Sure, yes, everything we’ve got is saying they’re connected, but that still doesn’t help us figure out what Henry means by it,” Beverly notes, the confusion, anxiety, and fear in her voice very clear. “What is he hoping to get out of this?”

“R-revenge. M-maybe.” Bill suggests flatly. He is staring at the ground again, still deep in thought. Perhaps, Henry blamed him for getting sent to prison, but even then Bill had no clue Henry was the one that drove the Dodge Challenger until last night at the movies.

“Revenge for what?! We didn’t do anything to this guy,” Richie asks, sounding a little irritated. “If anything HE has done something to all of us. We should be the ones getting revenge.” Richie professes with passion.

“If we were to do that, we’d be no better than him,” Ben argues thoughtfully, looking into Richie’s eyes. A short stare down commences... and ends with Richie giving in. He sighs with reluctance.

Stan checks his watch. _2 p.m._ He sighs, if they didn’t head back soon he was going to be late getting to the synagogue.

“Guys, as much as I love talking about Henry Bowers and whatever the fuck is going on in his head, I need to go or my dad will ground me for life,” Stan says, looking a little reluctant to leave them. He was worried about his dad’s anger at him for being late, but he was more worried about Bill.

“I should probably get home soon too...” Eddie says, pocketing his inhaler. His tone sounds weak and fragile. “My mom will go bananas if she finds out I went inside a prison.” He shivers.

“Why a prison?” Richie asks, raising his palm up and turning it sideways to reinforce his confusion.

“Richie, prisons are not exactly the cleanest and safest places on Earth, I mean just think about all the fucking germs floating around in that place,” Eddie explains rather too vividly for everyone else’s liking. Richie just rolls his eyes. “One little cough, and my mom will have me admitted into the hospital.”

“That’s a bit dramatic,” Beverly comments with disgust at the thought of being admitted into the hospital over a cough, she potentially caught from standing inside a prison for only half an hour. Eddie just nods and gives a wry smile.

“Yeah, I should probably go too,” Mike adds, he looks at Bill, seeing him still deep in his thoughts, the sun glowing onto his face making him glow like an angel. Mike sighs with adoration. “My grandpa needs me to mow the whole backyard, and that’s like nearly six acres, plus I’ll probably have to feed the pigs again.”

“Jesus, running a farm sounds like too much fucking l work,” Richie responds to Mike’s stated chore list. He pushes his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. “Well, I mean I ain’t got shit to do, anybody wanna go see a movie for real this time?”

“Fuck yeah! I’m in!” Beverly smiles and high fives Richie. She turns to Ben, who is staring at the sidewalk, thinking, reminding her of Bill. “What about you, Ben?” She gently nudges Ben out of his trance.

“Uh, sorry, I was just thinking about all the engineering homework I should REALLY be doing...” Ben says sadly, wanting more than anything to go to the movies with Beverly, to share a big bucket of popcorn, maybe even have their hands touch while reaching for pieces of it. His cheeks begin to flush with red. “I should go do that homework, I’m sorry Bev.”

“Ben, you don’t have to apologize, go do your homework! We’ll hang out some other time?” Beverly asks, smiling. She quickly runs her fingers through her hair, causing Ben to nearly faint with infatuation.

Ben nods in response, trying to hide his flushed face with his hands, but not doing a great job at that. Beverly turns to Bill.

“Bill, do you wanna go to the movies with Richie and I?” She asks very formally, still smiling. Richie snickers at her formality. Bill looks up to face her. He politely shakes his head.

“A-actually, I’m gonna g-go wr-wr-write some m-more,” He says, nodding with confirmation and shifting his neck in the direction of his house. Bill then turns to look at the others. “B-but guys, st-st-stay s-safe, c-call me ih-If a-anything goes wr-wrong.”

“You mean if we happen to encounter Henry?” Mike asks for clarification. He sees Bill’s seriousness written all over his face. Bill nods.

“Oh come on! What’s Henry really going to do?!” Richie asks sarcastically, he chuckles aloud. “Try and kill us all?!”

Bill, Beverly, Ben, Stan, Mike, and Eddie all look Richie dead in the eyes and he stops chuckling.

“Richie,” Eddie groans and shakes his head disapprovingly. He just sighs and turns to start walking away.

“What?” Richie asks, looking at each of them and seeing how serious their expressions are. “Wait, you guys really think he might try to kill us?!” His voice cracks with a little hint of fear.

Beverly grabs his arm softly. Mike, Stan, Bill, and Ben all turn to follow Eddie in walking away from Richie and Bev. Richie watches them go, letting the paranoia of thinking he might be killed by Henry Bowers set in.

“Come on, Richie. Let’s go find a movie playing,” Beverly says, pulling Richie in the opposite direction of the others. He looks back to see Eddie glancing back over his shoulder. Their eyes meet for a few seconds, before Stan says something that grabs Eddie’s attention and he turns back around.

...

“So how are you really feeling about all of this Henry stuff?” Ben asks, he looks down at the tan folder in his hands. It was just he and Eddie walking now.

Bill was at home writing, Stan was at the synagogue with his dad, and Mike was off mowing six acres of grass. None of the others wanted to take home the case folder. So naturally they left it with Ben. Eddie takes a quick pump off his inhaler and breathes out weakly.

“Honestly, I’m... I’m terrified,” Eddie discloses. Ben hears the terror and panic in his voice. “I don’t know what Bill did to piss Henry off, but now he’s gunning for all of us.”

“Yeah, I can’t help but feel like there’s something Bill isn’t telling us,” Ben confides to Eddie. Eddie sort of jumps back in surprise at Ben’s accusation.

“What?! Why would Bill hide something from us?!” Eddie asks astonished. Ben shrugs. Seeing Eddie’s surprised reaction made Ben feel guilty for even suggesting such a thing.

“I don’t... look it’s just a theory, okay?” Ben says, trying to dig himself out of his guilt. Eddie nods, but clearly looks uncomfortable. “Bill’s a great guy and all, but he’s been weird lately. You have to agree with that.”

“I don’t have to, but I do,” Eddie mutters, lowering his voice. He stops walking and grabs Ben’s arm. Ben faces him. “Bill’s just... he’s trying not to deal with his loss and it’s eating away at him constantly. I think he blames himself for what happened to Georgie, because before last night he didn’t know who had driven the car.”

“You think Bill blames himself because he had no one else to blame,” Ben articulates, Eddie nods in agreement. “But now he does.”

“Yeah. And that’s eating away at him too.” Eddie replies and turns to begin walking again.

They walk to the end of the street in silence. Both of them in their own thoughts. As they come up to the turn onto Eddie’s street, Ben stops.

“Eddie?” He asks quietly. Eddie turns around to see him. “Please don’t tell Bill what I said. I don’t want him to get more upset.”

“Okay, I won’t. But Ben, I know he’s not purposely trying to hide anything from us. When he’s ready to talk to us about whatever it is he’s got going on in his head, he’ll talk.” Eddie affirms with confidence. Ben nods.

“See you later, Eddie.” Ben says unhappily. He watches Eddie turn and begin his journey back to his house.

“See ya, Ben.” Eddie yells over his shoulder. He doesn’t turn around to look.

Ben watches him walk down the street and longing wishes he had never said anything to Eddie at all. He really should’ve known better, Eddie, Richie, and Stan all grew up with Bill in Derry. They probably knew him the best.

“Stupid!” Ben utters, lightly hitting his head with his palm. He continues forward, approaching his house.

...

It was not a very big home, only 2,500 square feet. It was certainly the smallest on the block. But Ben loved it for its design and architecture. As he steps up onto his front porch, he runs his fingers over the intricate swiveling patterns that were hand-carved into the archway over his front door. Ben had loved to do that ever since he was a little boy when his dad had to lift him up onto his shoulders so that Ben could reach it.

He smiles as he lowers his arm and reaches for the door handle, which was carved out of zinc alloy and shined with the sunlight. He twists it and pushes it open. Stepping into his house, he thinks,

_We should really start locking our door. Especially with Henry out on the loose._

So he turns and shuts it, flicking the lock on. He tugs at the door handle again and confirms that it is now locked.

“Good,” He whispers to himself as he walks into the kitchen. It was awfully quiet in his house this afternoon. Normally his parents would be prancing up and down the hall arguing over something trivial. As he passes by he grabs an apple out of the fruit basket sitting on the kitchen bar. He takes a great big bite out of it, and notices a yellow legal note stuck to the door of the fridge with a magnet. Ben steps over and takes it off the fridge to read it.

_ **Gone out for a dinner date, be back later.** _ _ **Love, Mom.** _

Ben nods setting the note down on the bar and going in for another bite of his apple. SHUNK! A burst of searing pain advances up his spine. He drops the apple and turns around. The apple bounces on the floor before someone kicks it across the room.

“Hi there, we haven’t met yet,” a man says smiling at him. In his hand he holds a bloody knife. “I’m Henry.”

Ben’s hand moves to where he feels the pain emanating from. It’s sticky. He returns his hand and sees it covered with blood. _HIS BLOOD_. Quickly he looks back up to see Henry striking down at him with the knife. Ben raises arm in front of his face instinctively. SHUNK! Another round of pain courses through his left forearm. He kicks at Henry and backs right into one of the bar stools, knocking it over and nearly falling over himself. Henry laughs as he prepares to take another strike at Ben.

“Why are you doing this?!” Ben asks loudly, feeling the blood dripping down his back and out of his arm. He starts to feel lightheaded.

“Because I can!” Henry answers back, with another stab. '

This one hits Ben in the stomach and causes him to fall backwards onto the floor. BAM! Ben’s head slams into the wood floor and his vision goes blurry. Henry stands over him still brandishing the knife. He reaches down and grabs Ben by the collar of his shirt.

“Now, be still fat boy, this is gonna hurt... a lot!” Henry asserts, laughing maniacally with a grimace as evil as satan himself. He holds the knife up to Ben’s already bleeding stomach and slashes open Ben’s shirt. As Henry begins to carve into Ben’s chest, he passes out.

_He and Beverly are at the movies, sharing popcorn, they’re hands touch when they reach into the bucket, they turn to each other. Ben leans in and Beverly does too. They kiss._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pennywise may not exist in this AU but Henry Bowers sure does. And he's a sadistic, fucked-up, insane individual. I'd be worried about Ben if I were you guys... just saying. Anywho, I've got some little updates on this series. I don't exactly know how many chapters I will have by the time it is over but I have a somewhat rough idea of an ending in my head. As for when I will be releasing new chapters. Currently I'm just hoping to have one out every Saturday evening, but if I feel good about one and I think it is ready to go out, I'll definitely post it before Saturday! So yeah, thanks again for reading and feel free to DM me on Twitter @tombrownman


	6. A Killer's High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following a strange feeling, Beverly, Richie, and Eddie along with Bill head to investigate a close friend's unresponsiveness, but when they arrive, it may already too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone! I only have a couple things to say before I get into this chapter because it's a real doozy. First off, thank you all sooo much for reading, leaving kudos, leaving comments, etc. It super awesome that you guys are enjoying this series as much as I am enjoying writing it. And secondly, I have reached a point to where I believe I will be releasing a single chapter every week for as long as I can, and until I finish the story, so I will probably have new chapters posted by sometime between Friday morning-Saturday night! Without further ado, here is chapter 6!

He was still going. Ben lay unconscious on the floor with blood pooling all around him from his stab wounds. Henry studies his chest with the knife blade in his mouth. It still has Ben’s blood all over it. He carefully traces his finger over a little section of Ben’s pale stomach.

“Oh yeah. That’s the spot right there!” Henry chuckles through his teeth and as he grabs the handle of the knife. He lowers it to Ben’s stomach and begins to slice open the skin protecting his innards.

…

Beverly and Richie exit the movie theater. Richie tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth from his left hand. He turns and shows Beverly the kernel in between his teeth. She laughs. He reaches into their bucket of popcorn and hands her a piece. She takes in her hand and starts to put it into her mouth when a thought pops into her mind. Or was it more like a feeling? She stops walking, drops the kernel, and quickly grabs Richie’s forearm. He nearly drops their entire bucket of popcorn.

“BEV!” Richie shouts startled by her sudden move. She covers his mouth with her hand before he can say anything else.

“Shush! Richie, something’s wrong,” Beverly whispers and slowly removes her hand from over Richie’s mouth. He just gives her a very confused expression. _What is it, Bev? _She asks herself in her head, “I can’t explain it, but I think something is happening… something bad…”

“Uh huh. Is Bevvy just wanting some more alone time with the Trashmouth?” Richie asks flirtatiously and winks at her. She elbows him in the side, and he drops the bucket of popcorn. It spills out all over the sidewalk, almost in the exact same spot where Eddie’s nausea meds spilled the night before.

Beverly shakes her head and looks Richie directly in the eyes with seriousness. _Please tell me you feel it too_. Almost at once, Richie‘s mind answers: _I feel it, Bev_. Something was wrong and both them could sense it.

“I think we should call Bill,” Beverly suggests still whispering, she darts her eyes around to see if anyone (_Henry Bowers_) is watching them. Satisfied that she doesn’t see Henry’s face in the crowd, Beverly reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone.

…

Henry continues slicing, delicately and precisely. The message had to be clear. It was all he could think about. Leaving messages for Bill to find was apart of the fun. And cutting a message into one of Bill’s _precious _friends, tasted sweeter than tea.

Henry had always been into carving and cutting up things. He was gifted his first pocket knife on his eighth birthday by his father, and ever since then he hasn’t stopped cutting or carving. Wood, metal, bedsheets, pillows, animals, all of it was the same for Henry. Cutting into a human though, that was different. The feeling of smelling a person’s fear and seeing it reflected in their eyes was beautiful to Henry. But what really made it so compelling was the blood. There was just something about feeling it: warm, oozing, and sticky, on his hands, in his hair, in his mouth even, that gave him an exhilaration he never knew he needed. Henry felt as though he was flying.

_A killer’s high. _

…

BRRRRRB! BRRRB! Bill sits up quickly. He had fallen asleep at his desk again. There were puddles of wetness from the sweat of his forehead where it lay on the desktop. BRRRRRRB! BRRRRRB! His phone was ringing. Bill grabs it but before he unlocks it to see who’s calling, he glances up at his laptop’s screen again.

_“This is gonna hurt… a lot!” The knife wielding madman proclaims. He lowers the knife to his victim’s flesh and that’s when the screaming begins. The screaming and the sawing of skin. _

_The ripping of skin? The cutting of skin? _

Bill sighs as he remembers where he drifted off. He was trying to decide what word to use. He quickly unlocks his phone and sees that Beverly is calling. He swipes to pickup.

“BILL!” Beverly and Richie yell from the other side of the phone. Bill jumps back in his rolling chair, nearly dropping his phone and tumbling to the ground.

“B-BEV?! J-Jesus you d-don’t h-have to sh-shout!” Bill yells back, his head beginning to pound. A migraine forming in its early stages.

“Sorry! You just… took forever to answer,” Beverly says in her normal pitch. Bill hears the panic in her tone. Something was off.

“W-what’s wr-wrong?” Bill asks immediately, not wanting to let the suspense build up. He hears Richie whispering something. “A-are you g-guys okay?”

“We’re fine. But… Bill, something’s wrong. I can feel it, Richie can feel it,” Beverly speaks, almost with a sense of hysteria. Bill scratches his head as he listens. “I think… I think one of us might be in danger.”

“Ih-In d-danger? B-b-Bev, w-w-What is g-going on?” Bill asks, hearing their worried whispers to one another. Something has them spooked but whatever “feeling” they had, Bill didn’t. He couldn’t feel anything other than frustration at not being able to choose a word for that one particular sentence in his story.

“Have you heard from any of the others? Stan? Eddie? Mike?” Beverly asks. Bill physically shakes his head and falls silent. “Bill? Are you there?”

“Y-yeah. And n-no. I-I h-haven’t. B-Bev, w-wha…” Bill is stopped short by a text message interrupting their call. “W-wait. M-Mike j-just texted.”

He lowers his phone and clicks on the notification.

**Mike: ** _Bill, I don’t know if you’re busy, but I’ve been wanting to ask you something. And I’ve been thinking about it a lot, especially the past few weeks… Whenever you read this, just call me._

Bill reads over the text twice, a little fluttery. On the other end of the phone, Richie says something inaudible.

“Eddie texted Richie, he’s fine but he said he felt something too. Stan isn’t responding to my text, but he’s probably in a service right now. Bill, what did Mike say?” Beverly asks, her breathing becoming a little labored with wariness. Bill swallows. He reads the text over again, starting to feel nervous about the ambiguity of Mike’s forthcoming question.

“Uh, he j-just wants t-to a-ask me s-something, h-he s-seems f-fine,” Bill replies, as he closes his messaging app, not realizing that he’s leaving Mike on read. He clears his throat, “Ha-have you t-t-texted St-Stan’s m-mom?”

“Richie’s doing that now, but Bill, I-I can’t get Ben to respond,” Beverly says, her breath straining. There’s a short pause and Bill hears her take a very sharp breath in. Beverly coughs. _Ben! _Bill’s head turns so quick, he almost breaks his neck. He stares back at his computer screen, looking at the sentences after the one he was trying to revise.

_“Why are you doing this?!” Ben screams as the madman saws into his stomach with the knife. _

_“Because I can, fat boy.” The man leans back and laughs as Ben looks down at his stomach. _Five_ words were carved onto him. _

** _HE DIES IF YOU TRY. _ **

“Oh sh-shit!” Bill mutters. He jumps out of his chair, sending it rolling to the other side of his room. Quickly, Bill pulls on his tennis shoes and throws his light jacket over his shoulder.

“Bill? What? What is it?” Beverly asks, her voice slowly changing from wary to concerned.

“M-meet me at B-Ben’s n-now!” Bill orders before he hangs up and slips his phone into his pants pocket. He takes off running out of his room and down the stairs.

…

“Psst! Hey fatty?!” A voice whispers inside Ben’s head. He tries to roll over and ignore it, wanting nothing more than to go back to his dream, with Beverly holding his hand and kissing his cheek. SLAP!

“AHH!” Ben screams as he awakens. The pain in his body kicks in again and he turns over and coughs. Blood drips out of his mouth.

“Good, you’re still here, I’m not finished with you yet!” Henry says with a childish delight. Ben turns to look up at him. Henry stands over Ben holding the bloody knife. Their eyes lock in place for a moment before Henry’s eyes glance down at Ben’s chest. “I wouldn’t look down if I were you.” He whispers with an evil grin.

Ben closes his eyes and takes in a labored and wheezy breath. He lifts his head up off of the floor and looks down at his chest. What he sees nearly causes him to pass out. It was blood red, it seared with pain, and Ben started to realize what Henry had done to him. There were words CARVED into his chest.

“You like it?” Henry asks, squatting down next to Ben to admire his handiwork. Ben continues to breathe with wheezes as he reaches up and touches the cuts on his stomach. An immense sharp pain emits from his chest and Ben feels his throat clog up with liquid. He looks up at Henry, anger flaring in his eyes, and spits blood right into his face.

Taken off guard, Henry stumbles back. His hands catch him before he can fall onto his backside. Ben stares at him, still wheezing and angry in his eyes. It doesn’t intimidate Henry, he simply chuckles, wipes some of the blood off of his forehead and licks the rest off his lips and around his mouth.

“You know, it really is true what they say about fat boys,” Henry smiles evilly, he raises the knife. “You do taste like chicken.” With this Henry laughs.

Ben shifts his body, using his arms to push himself off of the ground. He sits up and drags himself towards the barstools he knocked over when he fell. Henry laughs while watching Ben struggle.

“You… you…” Ben wheezes out. Henry raises a hand to his ear and cups it. Tears start to fall from Ben’s eyes, he feels dizzy and lightheaded, weak. His body starts slumping over, but Ben pulls himself out of it, desperately thinking of Beverly. _Her running her fingers through her red hair. Hearing her laugh._ Ben smiles, “You better not hurt her…”

“Aw! Benny, I won’t. Not really,” Henry chuckles as he mocks Ben. He starts to caress the blade of the knife with his left forefingers. He points it at Ben, and his devilish smile widens. “You see, there’s nothing that I could do to hurt your _lovely_ Beverly as much as this will hurt her. And you know, I gotta be honest, I am incredibly impressed. You’re gonna die, you know that, and yet you’re not begging for your life. You’re begging for hers.”

“I’m not begging you for anything…” Ben wheezes, more blood dripping from his mouth. He starts to slump over again, but this time Henry catches him and lifts him back up to let Ben finish. Ben stares into Henry’s eyes with hatred. Weakly, he grabs Henry by the shoulder. “I’m warning you. If you so much as touch a single hair on her head, alive or dead, I will never stop haunting you until every single one of your psychopathic head hairs has been put to the electric chair.”

Henry smiles and knocks Ben’s hand off his shoulder with an effortless parry. He leans back, squatting on the balls of his feet. Ben’s breathing starts to slow. His eyes droop down. He was getting close to closing them for the very last time.

“I believe you.” Henry whispers as he takes his knife and shoves it right into Ben’s upper chest, aiming for his heart. Ben flinches, gurgles with blood seeping out of his mouth, and slumps over onto the floor. Henry remains squatted for a moment, staring at Ben’s crumpled body, watching it ooze out blood. _A Killer’s High. _He stands up and, with his foot, rolls Ben over onto his back so that his stomach can display Henry’s message for all the world to see. Henry wipes off his knife with a kitchen towel, gently flips on the kitchen light, and exits Ben’s home.

…

Bill peddles his bike faster. He was still a block out from Ben’s house. He felt his lungs sting with exhaustion, but he continues to power through it.

“C-come on _Silver_!” He yells at his bike. Bill pushes his legs even harder, “B-Ben’s c-counting on us.”

Bill hadn’t ridden _Silver_ since Georgie died. The two of them used to ride together, Bill on his _Silver _and Georgie on his _Turtle_. Bill smiles slightly through his paced breathing, remembering how dumb he had thought the name of Georgie’s bike was. He told Georgie this every time they would ride. Georgie would insist that _Turtle_ was a fitting name, because unlike Bill, Georgie couldn’t peddle fast. Bill shakes his head, letting tears fly off his face as he bikes forward.

“N-no. N-not r-right n-now. F-f-focus.” He mutters to himself. Thinking of Georgie would only make things worse. Unless Bill was already too late.

He comes up to the end of the street, where if he turned left, he could head to Eddie’s house. Bill flies straight through the turn continuing forward, his destination only yards away. His legs begin to ache, and his lungs begin to burn from overworking. Bill starts to feel lightheaded. He glances up ahead and sees blobbed dark shapes. There were three of them standing at edge of Ben’s lawn. Bill starts to slow his peddling and finally comes screeching to a halt right next to Beverly, Richie, and Eddie. They turn to him, revealing their terrified expressions. Bill hops off of _Silver_ and runs past them up to the front door. He knocks.

“Bill! Wait!” Beverly shouts running up behind him. No one answers the door. Bill knocks again, this time a little louder.

“Dude, what if his parents are in there?!” Richie asks worryingly. He pushes his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose and grabs Eddie’s hand. “Isn’t that a little rude?”

Eddie gasps so suddenly all of them jump. He uses his inhaler. PSST!

“Richie, pointing out something that’s rude?! WHOA, Richie NOT doing something that’s rude?!” Eddie comments, slightly impressed. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I’m proud of you.”

As soon as he says it, Eddie quickly covers his mouth with his hands as if he doesn’t know what came over him. Bill stops knocking, he, Beverly, and Richie all turn to Eddie with their jaws open in shock.

“Eddie, did you just say you were proud of Richie?” Beverly asks completely frozen in the moment. Eddie’s cheeks turn burning red. “Holy shit you did!” She grins and chuckles slightly.

“Guys! Ben’s in danger! Remember?!” Eddie replies, pointing to Ben’s front door. Bill turns back to it and steps off the porch, thinking. He glances to the others.

“Eh-Eddie, R-R-Richie, help m-me b-bust d-down the d-d-door,” Bill commands, and the two of them move up beside him. Bill turns to Beverly. “B-Bev st-stand b-back,”

Beverly starts to open her mouth to protest, but seeing the seriousness in Bill’s face, steps aside anyway. Eddie stretches his really thin arms, CRACK! Eddie looks down at his arms with concern. Richie rolls up his short sleeves so that his (barely visible) muscles can show. He turns to Bill.

“On three?” Richie asks, sniffling for a second. Bill nods turning to the door. “Eds, you count,”

“Okay, and don’t call me Eds!” Eddie replies with reluctance, not sure that the three of them will be able to break down the thick mahogany door. He turns to Bill for reassurance. “Are you sure this is going to work, Bill? Maybe we should jus-”

“W-one! T-two! Thr-three!” Bill shouts and the three of them run full speed towards the door. At the last second, they turn their right shoulders to it and BAM!

Bill, Eddie, and Richie fall back onto Ben’s porch, each of them grabbing their shoulders in pain. Beverly’s face falls into her palm. She walks up to the door and turns the doorknob. The door swings open. She looks down at Bill, Eddie, and Richie and just rolls her eyes before slowly entering the house.

“Did that just…” Richie whispers turning to Eddie. He sits up still holding his arm. Eddie nods a little, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Ha-happen?” Bill asks, dumbfounded and a little embarrassed along with them. He rubs his shoulder and stands up.

“Let’s never speak of this.” Eddie replies to them both as he stands up too. Bill enters the house next, following Beverly.

…

As they all step inside the front hallway, the light in the kitchen catches their attention. Bill steps toward it with Beverly, Richie, and Eddie trailing behind him. Before they even enter the room, Bill sees the blood. It was all over the hardwood floor of the Hanscom’s kitchen. He turns to try and block the others from getting any closer, so they won’t see it, but Beverly peers over Bill’s shoulder and gasps. She shoves past him and right into the room. Richie and Eddie follow her.

“BEN!” She screams, plopping down next to his body on the ground, her leggings becoming soaked in blood. She strokes his face. Eddie, somewhat reluctantly because of the blood, squats down next to her and takes Ben’s wrist into his hand. He feels for a pulse. Bev turns to him, panic and extreme concern in her demeanor. “Eddie, anything?”

Eddie feels for a moment, getting nothing, no heartbeat, no response. _Come on, Ben. _He thinks. As if Ben heard him a tiny pulse starts to beat, then Eddie feels it and turns to Beverly. She watches his expression and sighs with a small amount of relief. Beverly leans over Ben’s forehead, placing a kiss onto it.

“He’s alive. But his pulse is faint, we should call an ambulance.” Eddie responds, sighing with some solace that Ben is still alive, even if only faintly. He glances back to Richie. Richie reaches into his pocket, pulls out his phone, and dials _9-1-1_. He quickly steps out of the room.

Bill stares at the carving on Ben’s chest. His heart jumps into his throat. _It’s the same one from my story. _His mind explodes with all sorts of thoughts, none of which were pleasant as he reads the word cut into the skin of Ben’s stomach.

** _HE DIES IF YOU TRY._ **

Bill turns and shuts his eyes, trying not to face the reality of the situation. Somehow Henry had read the exact same page Bill had been rewriting earlier that day. Beverly lifts Ben’s head into her lap and gently strokes his hair, tears welling from her eyes. Richie steps back into the room.

“Okay, ambulance is on its way. But, what do we do now?” Richie asks, no joking tone, no smirk, none of his usual smugness. Just fear. He looks at Bill closely.

“I d-don’t kn-know. I-” Bill starts to say, but he stops and reaches into his pocket immediately. BRRRRRB! BRRRRB! He looks up at the others, “Ih-It’s M-M-Mike,”

“Answer it.” Eddie says nodding, he turns to look back at Ben and Beverly. Bill swipes left and raises the phone to his ear.

“M-Mike?” Bill asks, now realizing that Mike has no idea what has happened. “I-I’m s-sorry I d-didn’t res-pond earlier, w-we’re at B-Ben’s, he’s, he’s h-hurt. A-are you okay?”

There’s a pause and Richie and Eddie both turn to look to Bill. His eyes dart back and forth, anxiously waiting for Mike to respond.

“I’m s-sorry B-b-b-Billy, Mikey can’t come to the phone right now, but I’ll take a message for him.”

Bill drops his phone from his ear and starts to breathe heavily. Richie and Eddie quickly stride over to him. He hands the phone to Richie who puts the call on speaker phone.

“Mike? What’s wrong dude?” Richie asks, looking from Bill’s panicked reaction back to Beverly holding Ben’s head in her lap.

“Trashmouth Tozier? Oh man, I was hoping you’d be there! Let me ask you something, is Beverly there too?” The voice from the other end of the phone asks. Beverly instinctively looks up. Ben remains unresponsive.

“Henry?” Richie asks startled and frightened, not wanting it to be true but he already knows. It was Henry Bowers on the other end. “What, what did you do to Ben?”

“Richard, I asked you a question first.” Henry replies, his tone as smug as Richie’s normal one. Richie swallows hard.

“I’m here,” Beverly answers loudly, she lowers Ben’s head back to the floor and stands up beside Bill, Richie, and Eddie. “What did do you to him?” Her voice cracks as she tries not to cry. Henry laughs childishly.

“Aw! So, you did have feelings for him too,” Henry mocks. Beverly grabs the phone from Richie’s hand, anger flaring in her face.

“Why?! Why did you do this?!” She asks, unable to hold back her tears. Henry chuckles slightly and in the background of the phone call, another muffled voice can be heard.

“M-Mike?!” Bill calls, hoping that muffled voice was Mike’s. Henry groans, clearly annoyed.

“I told Mikey to be quiet or he loses a finger.” Henry says with a sigh. Bill looks up to the others. The terror in his eyes very apparent, but still he tries to look confident. “Sorry Mike, hope you don’t need that pinky.”

THUNK! Mike screams through the phone as Henry laughs maniacally. Bill grabs the phone back from Beverly.

“H-Henry, p-please, st-stop this! It-it’s m-me you w-want, n-not M-Mike!” Bill starts to sob, near the point of begging. Henry just laughs even more.

“Oh, my dear Billy! Before I get to the main event, I think there is something Mike wanted to ask you, before you left him on read. Isn’t that right, Mikey?” Henry asks, in the background they hear Mike sobbing with terror. “Mike’s little secret.”

Beverly, Eddie, and Richie all turn to Bill, hoping to find some confidence in his eyes. He glances to them and nods with the tiniest hint of assurance and continues breathing sharply, trying to keep from hyperventilating. Henry chuckles.

“B-b-b-Billy, I’m gonna hand the phone to Mike now. Take it away, Mikey!” Henry cackles and presses the phone up to Mike’s ear.

“Bill? Bill are you there?!” He asks weakly, his voice squeaking and whispery. It sounds nearly gone, as if he’s been screaming for a while.

“Y-y-yes, M-Mike I’m- I’m r-r-right h-here.” Bill says, as he sobs, he feels his entire body begin to shake. Hearing Mike like this shatters Bill’s last remaining sliver of self-assurance.

“I texted because… because I just wanted to ask you… uh, or really just tell you that… I like you a lot and I would really like to go on a date with you sometime and just…” Mike trails off, gaining some strength back in his tone, but also feeling the awkwardness in his delivery. He sniffles to keep holding back his tears. SLAP! Mike winces. Henry yanks the phone back.

“Henry, p-please. St-stop. You d-don’t ha-have t-t-to d-do this.” Bill begs, finally giving in, no confidence remaining and left without any choice. Henry snickers. He had won. He had gotten what he wanted.

“Billy, you and I both know I can’t stop now. Not until you finish writing.” Henry joyously responds. “But enough of this bullshit. You wanna know what that message I left on Benny really means?”

Bill glances to Ben, who is still laying on the floor bleeding. The five words carved into his chest oozing with red. He takes a shallow breath.

“Y-yes.” Bill answers, weakly, searching his mind for the meaning in his story. Henry clicks his tongue.

“Well, somewhere out there I found and now have in my possession, your friend, Stanley Uris,” Henry explains. Bill looks to the others, each of them look just as horrified by this revelation. “And I have your potential… boyfriend, Michael Hanlon, right here with me now, say hello again Mike!”

“Bill, Don’t trust him he’s lyin-” Mike shouts through the phone before they hear WHACK! Mike goes silent.

“Whoops! Sorry about that Billy. Anyways, as I was saying, I’ve got Stanley and I’ve got Mike. I want you to choose, Bill. Stanley or Mike?” Henry asks, a maniacal chuckle building in his throat.

“W-what?!” Bill asks, confused, frightened, and still sobbing. “Henry, w-what d-do you m-mean?”

“It’s pretty simple, man. You pick one, I let them go, but the other…” Henry pauses as if he is picking something out of his teeth. He sighs, “The other one doesn’t get such a happy ending. But let me clarify just a bit: whomever you don’t choose to save, Billy, I will kill them, and if you get the stupid notion that you can save them both, I will kill them both!”

“He dies if you try.” Beverly whispers, looking at Ben’s stomach, then to his face. Outside the sound of sirens echoes as the ambulance approaches the Hanscom household.

“Exactly right!” Henry exclaims, with too much joy. Bill looks to Richie, Eddie, and Beverly, all of them as unsure of what to do. “Stan or Mike?”

Bill’s breathing begins to pick up speed rapidly, and soon he starts to feel like he’s hyperventilating. After a few moments of silence, Henry groans with annoyance.

“BILLY! STANLEY OR MIKE?!” He asks shouting through the phone, and then he adds, “DON’T make me ask again or they BOTH die!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty. So what we've learned today is Henry = psychopath. And for this one, I really wanna know who you guys think Bill will choose to save. Should he save Mike, who it appears is in the most clear and present danger, or should he choose to save Stanley, who hasn't responded to any texts and no one knows what he's been up to since he arrived at his Dad's synagogue? Comment, message me @tombrownman on Twitter, wherever you feel the most comfortable, and please let me know who you think Bill WILL save and who he SHOULD probably save! That's all for this one, stay tuned for Chapter 7!!!


	7. Crash and Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A difficult choice has to be made, but what will the answer cost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!!! I know it's been about a week since the last time I posted a chapter, but here we are with Chapter 7!!! I've got some news regarding the length and the endgame of this series that I'll talk about at the end but for now I want to say thank you for the kudos and I'm super excited for you guys to finally read this chapter. I've been working on it for about two weeks actually, but I took some time away from posting to get some life things in order, so anyway without further ado:

Time seems to freeze around Bill at that very moment. He could see Eddie and Richie’s mouths moving but he could not hear what they said. Bill glances to Beverly who is crouched over Ben, her back to Bill. When Bill had first conceived of the story in his mind, it did not turn out like this. Ben wasn’t actually supposed to get hurt, Mike and Stan were not supposed to be in danger, and Henry Bowers was not even supposed to have been in this story. Blinking in a daze, Bill looks down at his phone, the call with “Mike” (Henry) still going.

“DENBROUGH?!” Bowers screams through the phone; Bill shakes out of dazed shock. He begins to shiver. “URIS OR HANLON?! NOW!”

“Dude, you can’t do this!” Richie screams back in response. Outside the siren sounds grow closer.

“I can, and I will. I warned you, Billy. Last chance, Mike or Stan?” Henry asks, this time not screaming, but bored of this conversation.

Eddie turns to Bill, who just stares at his phone, reading Mike’s name over and over again.

_“I like you a lot and I would really like to go on a date with you sometime…” Mike voice echoes in Bill’s ears._

Bill takes in a deep breath. _Sorry Stan._ He finds himself thinking. He takes the phone off of speaker and raises it up to his ear so that only he can hear what Henry will say to his choice. Richie and Eddie watch him closely, both anxious to hear what decision Bill has come to.

“S-s-save M-mike,” Bill whispers, trying to be silent enough so the others won’t hear. He was worried about what they would think of him. How he could possibly choose between two of his closest friends, who lives and who dies, Bill didn’t understand. He had written about their deaths in his story, but it was never something that he intended to befall them. “M-mike.”

“Thank you.” Henry replies calmly before hanging up. Bill lowers the phone to his side and turns to the others.

“W-we sh-should g-g-go to M-Mike’s house j-j-just to b-be sh-sh-sure,” He stutters, Richie nods in agreement but Eddie shakes his head.

“No, Bill. We SHOULD get Ben to a hospital,” Eddie states blatantly. Bill hears the anger in his voice. He had a feeling all of them would be angry with him by the morning.

“I already called the ambulance, Eds. There’s not much else WE can do for Ben.” Richie argues calmly, reaching over and taking Eddie’s hand into his. Eddie gently pulls it free and shakes his head.

“Someone should at least stay with Ben. I know what it’s like to ride in an ambulance alone,” Eddie says, and he swallows hard, remembering the terrifying experience from when he was little. “I don’t want anyone to go through that.”

“I’ll stay with him,” Beverly mutters, her voice sounding hoarse and tired and emotionally drained. She turns around to them and looks directly at Bill. “Go,”

“Th-Thank you.” Bill says to her. He, Richie, and Eddie turn to leave the kitchen but a soft hand wraps around his arm. Bill looks back. Beverly is standing now, right behind him. “B-Bev? W-what ih-is it?”

“When you find Mike, and Stanley, you meet us at the hospital. Don’t go home, Henry could be waiting there,” Beverly stares into Bill’s eyes, her seriousness meeting his building terror and guilt. Bill nods and starts to open his mouth, but Beverly speaks first, “And Bill, you’re going to have to explain to us how you KNEW what was going to happen tonight.”

They continue staring into each other’s eyes. Bill seeing the same anger, he had heard in Eddie’s voice, reflecting from Bev’s eyes. One by one they were all going to be upset with him. Deep down, he knew it. Beverly lets go of his arm and Bill, Richie, and Eddie exit the Hanscom’s house.

…

Stan looks at his watch again. _3 missed calls. 3 unread text messages. _He sighs and licks his lips to moisturize them. It was hot and humid in his father’s office. After the service, Rabbi Uris had asked his son to meet him in his office. Stan did as he was asked, mainly out of reluctance and forced obligation. It looked bad if the Rabbi’s own son didn’t do what he was asked.

His mind went back to the prison, looking at the photos of Henry’s cell, the message he had written in that guard’s blood. Stanley swallows hard, shakes his head and closes his eyes. He didn’t want to think about it anymore… but at the same time, his mind kept coming back to it. It focuses on the guard’s body. Jutted open like a duffel bag. Gutted like a deer or a fish.

Stanley had never been hunting, nor was he allowed to, but he had grabbed a few of the hunting magazines showcased at the Derry County Library and snuck them home in his backpack. That was one of the many times, he disobeyed his father and his family’s rules. Stanley hated those rules. He was not allowed to eat certain things, he wasn’t allowed to do certain things, and all of it was just confusing. Why can’t a boy of Jewish faith eat any bacon, or pork loins, or ribs, or anything made from pork? What does it really matter what food you ate? It took Stanley a long time to just accept that he would always have to, at least, pretend to follow the rules. Even if those rules felt imposing, frightening, or redundant. So, he did. He even went through with a bar mitzvah, because his father had practically forced him into it.

He sighs as his thoughts drift back to his dad’s office. Rabbi Uris had tons of weird looking paintings on the wall, and ever since Stanley was little, he had been afraid of them. Well not ALL of them, mainly just the two that hung above his father’s desk. The one on the right was a picture of a tall, slender, dark-headed woman playing a flute. Stan swore that woman’s eyes followed him everywhere he went inside this room. Glancing up at that picture now, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“Nope. Not today.” He whispers, confidently. He had seen worse than a terrifying, slender woman playing a flute. His mind gives him a flash of the six decapitated, mummified heads sitting on the hood of Henry Bowers’ blue Dodge Challenger. That was inherently more horrific than that painting to the right, above his dad’s desk.

He changes his gaze to look at the second painting. The one to the left. It was a beautifully, hand-painted, image of a field. Grassy, overgrown, and nourished looking. Stanley wasn’t afraid of the field; he was afraid of the circle of dead birds that lay in the middle of it. An American goldfinch, a house sparrow, a black-capped chickadee, a northern cardinal, a blue jay, and a morning dove composed the decomposing circle. His father had gotten this painting made just for Stanley, when his habit of bird watching started to become more important than his involvement with his faith.

“Stanley,” a voice calls from behind him. Stan turns around in his chair to look out into the hallway, but no one is there. He stares out into the dark passage, scanning for anyone that could’ve called his name.

“Hello?” He asks calmly and curiously. After a few seconds with no reply, he sighs and rolls his eyes again. “Stupid, now you’re hearing things.”

Not wanting to look back at the painting of the dead birds, as it filled him with fear and anger towards his father, Stan shifts his body so that he can look out of the window in his dad’s office. Even in the growing darkness, he could see it: Rabbi Uris’ prized, freshly cut, neatly maintained, patch of grass. His father called it the “_Lawnagogue_” a play on the word “synagogue”. That thin stretch of weeds was something his father was extremely proud to show to people, whenever they approached the synagogue. _Unlike me. _Stan thinks to himself. He glances at his watch again. _8:43p.m. _

“Where the hell is, he?” He asks under his breath as he returns his focus to the window. He’d been sitting in the office for at least thirty minutes now. As he blankly stares out the window, something catches his attention. “Wha..” He trails off before he can finish the word.

Not realizing he’s doing it, Stanley stands up and walks over to the window, trying to get a closer look at something. He reaches up his hand and presses it against the glass. In an instant, his eyes widen in horror. Stan jumps back and nearly falls over the chair he was sitting in.

Out on the “_Lawnagogue_” was a circle of dead birds. A black-capped chickadee, a northern cardinal, a blue jay, a house sparrow, a morning dove, and an American goldfinch. _Just like the painting. _He thinks horrified. Stanley’s stomach turns over with unease and he steps back, not looking. A hand grabs him by the shoulder, and he screams.

…

Bill, Richie, and Eddie park their bikes at the edge of the Hanlon’s driveway, in the street. As they walk towards the front door, Bill notes that the Hanlon’s house is dim and unlit, not like the Hanscom’s. Bill takes the lead as the three of them step up onto the porch.

“Oh fuck,” Richie whispers with a bit of worry. Eddie and Bill turn to him. He pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and points ahead. “The door…”

“Where’s the doorknob?” Eddie asks in a whisper, he and Richie exchange wary looks. Bill shrugs and pushes on the door with both of his arms. It doesn’t budge.

“Ih-It’s l-locked.” He says, his breathing sharp and shallow, his nerves on pins and needles. As nervous as he was thinking that they’d all be upset with him later, right now he was worried for Mike. He would never admit it to any of the others, except Mike himself maybe, but he has had a crush on him since the fifth grade where they first met on the playground. Bill wasn’t sure he was completely gay, but Mike Hanlon was someone he definitely felt attracted to.

“So, what this one is locked, and Ben’s wasn’t? What game is Henry playing at?” Eddie asks still whispering. Bill doesn’t hear him. Richie nudges Eddie a little.

“Eds, this IS Henry Bowers we’re talking about… and I mean after what he did to Ben…” Richie breathes shallowly, fear seeping from his tone. Eddie cocks his head to the side and raises an eyebrow, not understanding what Richie is trying to say. “This is like Friday the 13th or Halloween. Henry’s the psychotic, psychopathic murderer and we’re…”

“The teens that get murdered,” Eddie finishes Richie’s thought, instinctively reaching for his inhaler and taking a puff from it. PSST! He wheezes for a second.

“Yeah, except we’re missing one extremely important element of those horror movies,” Richie continues. Eddie grips his inhaler tight against his chest as if it is some sort of shield, preparing for more terrifying news. Richie turns to look Eddie directly in the eyes with the most serious expression he can manage. “All the fucking hot nude scenes.”

Richie bursts out laughing so loud that Eddie jumps with fright. Bill turns and clamps his hand over Richie’s mouth. He holds a finger over his lips. All of them fall silent. Faintly, they hear something tapping at the door from the inside of the house. Richie and Eddie look at Bill who lowers his hand from Richie’s mouth and leans his head up against the door to better hear the tapping.

“Help.” Bill hears someone mumble weakly. _MIKE!_ He starts to open his mouth to scream for him, but instead turns to Richie and Eddie.

“Ih-It’s M-Mike. He’s a-alive!” Bill exclaims, sounding relieved. He turns back to the door and knocks on it. The faint tapping stops. “M-Mike? A-are you there? Ih-it’s B-Bill.”

“Bill, no you shouldn’t be here…” Mike manages to get out through his labored breathing. Bill turns to the others confused.

“W-what?” Bill asks. Why would Mike say that they shouldn’t be here? He had to have known they were going to come save him, right?

“It’s a trap!” Mike says, this time loud enough so that Richie and Eddie can hear him too. Bill’s eyes widen with terror as he tries to reevaluate the situation with the pretense of it being a trap.

“Wait, a trap?!” Eddie asks, no longer whispering, but still clenching his inhaler. His fist red because of the tightness of his grip.

“Yes! Quick, get the door!” Mike shouts before he starts violently coughing. Bill slams his body against it, but it still doesn’t budge. He turns to Richie and Eddie, looking a bit frantic.

“Dude, the door’s sealed, there’s no doorknob or anything! How’re we supposed to get in?!” Richie asks loudly. They hear Mike’s coughing from behind the door. Eddie sniffs the air and immediately covers his nose and mouth.

“Smoke! I smell smoke!” He shrieks with terror, slipping his inhaler into his shirt pocket. Bill steps back and looks through the window. A bright-orange light flickers. _Fire! _

The light grows brighter as Bill takes a running jump kick at the door. BAM! His ankle cracks and he falls over onto the porch. Eddie screams and bends down next to him, pulling Bill’s hands off his hurting ankle. Bill sits up and gently pushes Eddie out of the way. Before Eddie has time to protest, Bill jumps up and slams his shoulder into the door again. BAM! It budges slightly. He turns to Richie and nods, frantically. Both Richie and Bill use their shoulders to push at the door. It starts to creak and bulge. But not enough. Bill looks back to Eddie who stands frozen in fear, watching the orange light get bigger and brighter from the window.

“Eh-eh-eh-eh-Eddie!” Bill screams to get his attention, Eddie refocuses on Bill and Richie pushing against the door. “H-h-h-h-help uh-uh-us!”

Eddie simply shakes his head and steps back, again looking to the fire and the smoke starting to seep out of the crack at the bottom of the door. Bill and Richie begin to cough and inside Bill hears Mike coughing too, sounding horrid but still alive. Richie’s glasses begin to fog up and he turns to Eddie.

“Eds! Come on!” He yells, but Eddie is transfixed on the orange light coming from the window. Richie turns to Bill and the two of them exchange terrified glances. An idea pops into Richie’s mind and suddenly a huge grin forms on his face. Bill watches, frightened and confused. “Hold on, Big Bill, I got this!”

Richie pushes off the door and uses the momentum to wrap his arms around Eddie. He gently tugs Eddie’s shirt away from covering his mouth and leans in. Bill watches completely stunned as Richie kisses Eddie straight on the lips and unsurprisingly Eddie kisses back. The two of them stand embraced for several moments, while Bill feels the door begin to get hot.

“GUYS! K WORD LATER, SAVE MIKE NOW!” Bill yells, without a single stutter, and Richie and Eddie pull their faces apart. Their faces turn red with slight embarrassment and a rush of adrenaline. They race over to the door. With all three of them pushing, it finally buckles and swings open.

Smoke plows out and into the air, and the three of them back away as flames shoot out at them. Bill covers his mouth and nose with his shirt and runs right into the house. Richie and Eddie back away holding each other’s hands and coughing. A few seconds later, Bill emerges from the smoking and burning house carrying an unconscious Mike. He runs out into the yard, making sure to get several feet away before gently setting Mike down and collapsing himself. Richie and Eddie step over to him.

“Big Bill?” Richie asks, coughing between words. He tries to rub the condensation off of his glasses, but it only makes it worse. He turns to Eddie looking for confirmation.

“Bill, are you… okay?” Eddie asks, sounding out of breath and wheezing badly. Bill coughs and uses his arms to push himself up off of the ground. He nods slowly before motioning with his head for them to go check on Mike. Eddie turns to Mike.

“Mike?!” Richie asks loudly. The fire continues to crackle and blaze in front of them, nearly blinding their eyes.

“I… I…” Mike croaks out, Richie bends down next to him and lifts up his head, resting it in his lap, the same way Bev did with Ben’s head. Mike coughs and looks up at Richie, a slight smile forming on his face. “I really wish we could just skip to the part with the hot nude scenes.”

There is a silence for a second. Then, all four of them snicker with relief. They sit down next to each other and watch the smoldering fire. Richie and Eddie holding hands, Mike and Bill looking into each other’s eyes.

…

“DAD!” Stanley screams, his heart nearly bursting with fright. He steps away from his dad and sits down in one of the chairs facing his father’s desk.

“Stanley, are you okay?” Rabbi Uris asks, sitting down in the rolling chair on the opposite side of the desk. He looks Stanley over with some concern. “Did I startle you?”

“Yes, yes you did.” Stanley nods, trying to slow down his breathing to get relaxed again. He glances out the window and sees that the decomposing circle of birds is gone. Was his mind just playing tricks on him? He quickly returns his focus to his dad. “Were you the one that called my name earlier? In the hallway?”

Rabbi Uris studies his son’s distraught facial expression. He shakes his head, looking down at the papers on his desk. Stan sighs, with some relief, but with more paranoia. His father sighs too. Stan watches his eyes as they dart back and forth across the page. After a few minutes of silence, his father looks up to him and stares directly into his eyes.

“Stanley, I need to tell you something,” Rabbi Uris starts, he looks back down at the papers on his desk, giving Stan the impression that he is unsure of how to tell him this “something.” Rabbi Uris clears his throat, “Your mother received a call from Mrs. Hanscom, Ben was attacked earlier this afternoon.”

“Ben was attacked?!” He japes with shock. Stan’s heart stops for a moment. He looks at his watch. His father nods. “When?! How?! Where?!”

“Stanley, Ben is asking for you, so is Beverly Marsh. Mrs. Hanscom asked if I could take you to the hospital to see them,” Rabbi Uris continues. Stan closes his eyes and tries to feel relieved that Ben is alive, and Beverly is with him. “I objected you really need to be spending more time here at the synagogue, but your mother insisted that you need to be there for your friend. So, grab your stuff, let’s go.”

His father stands up, ending the conversation rather abruptly. Stan jumps up after him and taps on his Apple Watch. He taps on the messages icon.

**Richie: ** _Stan?! _

**Richie:** _ Stan the Man?! _

**Richie:** _ Where are you?! _

**Richie:** _ Are you okay?! _

**Richie: ** _ Ben was attacked… it was Henry, _

**Richie:** _ and according to Bowers himself, you’re the next target. _

**Richie:** _ Please text any one of us back ASAP! _

“I’m his next target?” Stan whispers to himself, sort of chuckling with dispel, letting that information sink in. Reluctant to fully believe RICHIE TOZIER is telling him the truth, he texts back quickly:

**Stan: ** _Hey Richie! I was at the Synagogue with my dad. I’m okay, and are you sure that Henry said I was his next target?_

He grabs his bag and walks out of his father’s office, takes one last glance at the painting of the circle of birds, and then closes the door behind him.

…

Stan pops his AirPods into his ears and scrolls through the YouTube Music app. He taps on one twenty-minute-long song called, “Calming Piano for Deep Thinkers”, and focuses his attention back to Richie’s messages. He reads over them again. Something about the texts seemed off to him, although with Richie it could be anything. Were they all actually worried about him? The thought makes Stan smile slightly as his dad hits the gas and they roll through the stoplight. Green light flashes over Stan’s face as they go through.

“What the heck?!” His father says suddenly, Stan looks up to see a blue Dodge Challenger speeding at full force. “What is this guy doing?!”

“DAD! GET OUT OF TH-” Stanley tries to yell, but it’s too little too late.

The Challenger rams right into the side of the Uris’ Honda Accord. BAM! Stan black out as the airbags deploy and smack him in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOOOOOOOKAY! Well now it certainly looks bad for Stanley and Rabbi Uris, but hey, at least Ben is safe at the hospital and Mike is still alive! I feel like there is something else that happened in this chapter that I should mention but....... NAH. Can't think of it! Anyway, down to business. I've been doing some thinking as to where I want to take this series and I believe I have a semi-complete plan of how many chapters I expect there to be. So as of right now, I'm aiming for about 16-21 chapters, and I know that's not really very specific but I'm giving myself some room just in case it doesn't end up being as long as I think it will. Another bit of news, I think, if my writing goes well and lines up with the outline I have, at the end of the next chapter we will be at the end of the first act of this story so that'll be something to look forward to I hope. As always, you can message me if you want @tombrownman on Twitter, and please feel free to comment and tell me your thoughts and ideas on where you think this could go. I have an outline but it's really just for major story beats and I'm sort of filling in the blanks along the way with stuff.


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